Water in my Hands


 Water in My Hands:

When you are ten years old, thinks like being not invited to your best friends birthday hurt. A lot. Sure you might be upset over something very important, such as fighting over whose turn it was to play on the new edition of Mario Kart, but you still had to invite her over to your birthday, right?


“No!” I screamed inside my head. “Why do I have to invite her? It wasn’t my fault that she is upset with me. In actuality, it was all really HER fault,” I declared, trying to convince myself. I set my mind, and decided not to talk to her, ever again. I squared my jaw and walked into the classroom, mustering all the determination that I had.


But as soon as I stepped through the door, my confidence crumbled. I sighed, feeling depressed – who would cut off the crusts on my peanut butter jelly sandwiches, or who will help me solve those torturous multiplication problems if I wasn’t going to speak with her? I glanced across the classroom and saw my friend chattering away with some of the other girls in the class. How dare she do that? She was MY friend, right? “No, she isn’t your friend anymore. Or is she?” I asked my self doubtfully.


I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t miserable that day. She would look at me sometime, I avoided her eye and returning to my arithmetic (rather reluctantly, might I add).


Mom noticed a change in my behavior, but left me alone. But when I sulked in my room without eating dinner, she grew concerned and knocked on my door and asked, “Is everything alright?”


I sniffled, not knowing what to do, but soon I found myself spilling everything to her. She listened patiently, and finally she took my hand, and led me to the wash basin. She held my hand under the water, letting the coolness wash over my loosely held fingers. I looked at her questioningly.


“If you let your fingers loose like this, the water will just flow past you, but if you clench your fingers together tightly, the water will stay with you even when you are stuck in a hot, dry desert,” she explained calmly.


“What do you mean?” I asked her, confused.


“If you can adjust according to you surroundings, and the people around you, they will always stay by your side, but if you remain stubborn, people will just walk past you, and when you are in need for support, you will fall down.”


I nodded solemnly, understanding what she was trying to explain. The next morning, I went into the class, and strode up to my friend, knowing that what I was about to do was right.


“Hey, Jane!” I greeted while she turned to me with a cautious look. “You see, my birthday is coming up soon, and I am inviting all my friends,” I paused expectantly, stressing on that last word.


“Lisa, I hope you still like Ferrero Rochers, because I am getting them for your birthday,” she replied with a smile, and just like that, all the tension dissolved.


I hugged her tightly, knowing that I will always have water with me, even if I was stuck in the Sahara Desert in the middle of July.